


Let's Go

by dreamlittleyo



Series: Glass 'Verse [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boss/Employee Relationship, Lawyers, M/M, Pining, Power Imbalance, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 06:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17913239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: Alexander is not a paragon of patience, and Washington should really know better.





	Let's Go

“You could always run for president,” Alexander suggests without looking up from his laptop screen.

He is not remotely serious. A judgeship is the closest George Washington will _ever_ aspire to a career in politics—he’s given no indication of other aims—and Alexander knows just how much his boss detests finding himself in the spotlight. He does not like having an audience. Which should perhaps seem like a contradiction in one of the city’s top trial attorneys, but somehow Washington renders these two traits reasonable companions.

Even a place on the federal bench is a more public position than he would’ve guessed Washington might aspire to, but then the man always _has_ been civic-minded.

Why shouldn’t he keep his eyes and his goals fixed on the national stage?

Alexander’s suggestion earns a wry snort, and even without looking up he can picture Washington shaking his head. Narrowed eyes, disapproval counterbalanced by grudging amusement.

“There are quite a few reasons that’s a terrible idea.”

“Maybe.” Alexander shrugs one shoulder. “But if your judicial nomination never comes through…” He’s teasing, of course. Washington has kept his interest in a judgeship mostly within hypothetical bounds. It’s not as though he doesn’t have other ambitions keeping him busy.

One of those ambitions is, at the moment, the case they are working on right now. A class action lawsuit that will be nearly impossible to win. It’s not that the case doesn’t have merit. The corporation being sued is unquestionably guilty of everything alleged and then some. But proving that fact is only one step in a long and expensive chain, and Alexander knows a long shot when he sees one.

It’s this case that has them in Washington’s office late tonight. Long after the rest of Washington's staff has gone home, and into quieter hours that leave Alexander feeling riled with restless energy. He’s always been something of an insomniac, but it’s both better and worse when he has a _reason_ to fuck up his sleep schedule.

Washington needing him—needing his help and his presence—is all the reason Alexander requires.

“Enough,” Washington announces at last. There’s a quiet click as he caps his pen and then a rustle of papers shuffling and folders closing atop the massive desk. “We’re not going to make any more progress tonight. Let's wrap this up, and come at it fresh on Monday.”

Alexander does not bother pointing out the obvious: that Washington will be back well before the weekend is over. Maybe even tomorrow. In no world will he make it all the way to Monday without convincing himself to return to the office. He might make it without calling _Alexander_ to come in. But then, George Washington is occasionally a hypocrite.

"Can I give you a ride home?" Washington asks as they both step from the empty office suite into the hallway.

"Sure." He can certainly afford to call a damn cab, but the thought of waiting around is enough to leave Alexander feeling exhausted and fidgety. Besides, this is the first time Washington has offered him a ride—and not just offered to foot the bill for a taxi—since that damn kiss they are apparently _still_ not acknowledging. Alexander would have to be an idiot to refuse this olive branch, even if all it heralds is a return to the status quo.

He should probably be glad he still has his job, all things considered. Not because he fears Washington would ever take retaliatory action for… well… _anything_ , honestly. But because Washington is the man in charge. He could sure as hell have Alexander transferred to a comparable position on a different team. Arguably that's what Washington _should_ have done by now.

Alexander is grateful as hell the man has refrained. He doesn't want a different job away from Washington's side. He wants to stay exactly where he is, complications be damned. Hell, Alexander would welcome further complications with open arms. Weeks later, he is still thinking about Washington's mouth on his. It's getting to be a problem.

They're both quiet all the way down to the parking garage, and then all through the drive to Alexander's apartment building. When they reach his street there is, utterly miraculously, an open parking space only one building over from his front door. Washington takes the spot but keeps the engine idling. This is the moment for innocuous goodnights and see-you-Mondays. The moment for them to part ways without awkwardness or innuendo. This is the moment for Alexander to prove that yes, things are normal again.

Instead, after unbuckling his seatbelt with a soft click, he hears himself ask, "Are we going to just never talk about it?"

Washington keeps both hands on the wheel, but he looks calm enough when he glances across the car. "Talk about what?"

Alexander scowls. "You know damn well 'what'."

"Alexander—"

"You kissed me."

A beat of silence ricochets through the cab of the car, but finally Washington says, "Yes. I did."

"You gonna try and apologize for it?" Alexander does his best to inject the question with enough disdain to make it clear the last thing he wants is an apology.

Washington gives him a rueful look that is nowhere near a smile. "An apology now would be disingenuous at best."

"But pretending it never happened is better somehow?"

Washington's eyes narrow. "I have been trying _not_ to put you in an uncomfortable position."

"Sir. Not to be crass about it? But you can put me in whatever position you want."

Washington blinks at him in what looks like genuine shock. As though whatever he expected Alexander to say, he can't believe _these_ are the words he's chosen. As though he didn't expect a confession so blunt.

Well. He probably didn't. It seems pretty obvious he only offered Alexander a ride home because he thought this topic of discussion well and truly closed. And maybe that fact shouldn't wind Alexander up the way it does, but god damn it, how can Washington expect him to just let this go? Alexander never lets _anything_ go without an argument; why should this, of all things, be different?

Fuck it.

Alexander reaches between their seats and releases Washington's seatbelt buckle, then maneuvers as gracefully as he can over the gear shift and into Washington's lap. It's _not_ especially graceful in the end, because space is limited, and the ceiling is low, and the seat isn't really big enough to straddle someone comfortably. But Alexander does it anyway, framing his boss's face between his palms and ducking in for a pleading kiss.

He is terrified Washington will push him away, but the hands that curl at Alexander's hips merely settle there. A warm presence, not enough to count as encouragement, but not a rejection either.

Too soon Alexander retreats, feeling jittery in his own skin. He is not at all certain what reaction he’s about to find on Washington's face.

When he opens his eyes, he finds Washington watching him closely. The blank expression is too perfect to be anything but deliberate.

"Come inside." Alexander barely recognizes his own voice with so much hungry gravel tingeing the words.

"This is still a bad idea."

"So what?" Alexander presses. "You want to. I _want you to_. On this side of the street your car can stay put all night. There's no good reason _not_ to come inside."

"There's the fact that you are a subordinate under my direct supervision."

"Yeah?" The first edges of a manic grin twitch at one corner of Alexander’s mouth. "You probably should've considered that _before_ you kissed me. It's a little late to claim the moral high ground."

A stunned heartbeat passes in silence, and then Washington gives a startled bark of laughter. Brief, and loud, and strangely charming. His eyes have narrowed even further, crow's feet crinkling at the corners. He slips one hand away form Alexander's hip and moves with only a hint of caution to cup Alexander's jaw. It feels far too intimate for such a simple touch, and warmth ignites in Alexander's chest at the contact.

"You are completely impossible," Washington observes in a rumbling voice.

"Yes," Alexander agrees. "Come inside."

It seems an eternity he holds his breath waiting for an answer this time. A different answer, he hopes. A _better_ answer. It's time for Washington to stop being a hypocrite and acknowledge that whatever the hell this is, it could be _good_. And even if it's an unmitigated disaster… Surely it's worth the attempt. Anything would be better than the distracted limbo they’ve been trapped in.

He keeps perfectly still as he waits. His senses are spinning with anticipation by the time Washington shifts in his seat.

"Okay," Washington says.

Alexander sucks in new air, lightheaded as he abruptly remembers how to breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Replacement, Nation, Audience
> 
> I also hang out **[over on Dreamwidth](https://dreamlittleyo.dreamwidth.org/)** , if you'd like to find me. (And have set up a **[Hamilton/Washington Community](https://whamilton.dreamwidth.org/)** over there, just a heads up to anyone who might be interested :)


End file.
